Holy terrors of the British New Wave, Rip Rig & Panic were one of the most radical and spectacular bands of their time, and helped legitimize hybrids of rock with jazz and ethnic folklore that anticipated the more daring experiments of dance music and world music twenty years later.

Rip Rig & Panic emerged in Bristol from the ashes of the Pop Group: Mark Springer, a disciple of the Darmstadt avant-garde and a prodigy on keyboards, capable of extracting from his piano both clusters and jazz scales; Bruce Smith with his exuberant bamboo drumming; Gareth Sager, an exuberant Dr. Jekyll (exotic sax) and Mr. Hyde (manic sax and guitar); and Sean Oliver (bass). Expanding the scope of that experimental funk-jazz was singer Neneh Cherry, stepdaughter of jazz trumpeter Don Cherry, who had married the band’s drummer.
Their pieces fuse afro-funk, soul, classical avant-garde, free jazz, and punk rage. Go Go Go, the 1980 single, launched the disjointed “funkophony” continued in Bob Hope Takes Risks, and culminating in the double EP God (Virgin, 1981 - Progressive Line, 2005), a manifesto of an ultra-fusion without precedent since early Chicago. Largely instrumental, its sound vaults beyond all jazz-rock to brush against world music and free improvisation. From the group’s basket can emerge both disheveled sarabandes and exotic fusion, pan-ethnic chants as well as daring harmonic experiments. Constant Drudgery Is Harmful To Soul is archetypal in its mixture of absurd chants, braying sax, clusters of piano notes, and electronic dissonances over an obsessive funk rhythm (bass lines, handclaps, and chorus). Knee Deep In Shit is the most unrestrained, chaotic, vulgar and “total” fanfare/orgy (Brechtian declamation, syncopated jazz piano, African tribalism, hard-rock guitar lashes, Caribbean whistles).

The more comic side of their art is represented by hyper-kinetic instrumental jokes like the tropical carnival of Totally Naked, ethnic gags such as Need (for Neneh’s trills, African tribalism, and nagging piano), sunny dances like It Don't Mean A Thing (driven by torrid syncopations and frenzied piano), and epileptic hip-hop like Those Eskimo Women.

On the jazz front stand out the anguished, Gato Barbieri-esque flights of the sax over a background of equatorial sounds and screams in Try Box Out Of This Box; the Zappa-like orchestral triumph of Through Nomad Eyeballs (rich in squealing sax and piano arpeggios); the jungle sounds of Beware (detunings, tinklings, tam-tams, bells, sax trills and clarinet cries); and the many echoes of Don Cherry’s organic music (the white-voice choirs and utopian piano of Change Your Life).

Their most experimental ideas include the keyboard minimalism of Wilhelm Show Me The Diagram (whose score is an orgasm), the abrasive funk of Howl Caged Bird (with dense “acid” organ bursts), and the cocktail-lounge piano sonata Blue Blue Third.

What makes their sound great are the pyrotechnic band-like interplay, the evocative juxtapositions of different matrices, and the solos—essential and overwhelming, pushed to the limits of the instrument’s possibilities—that fit perfectly into the general climate of transgression; but above all a bold and uninhibited imagination, capable of sustaining both comic and dramatic tones.

The energetic symbiosis between derailed urbanism and spontaneous primitivism, the exquisite stitching of quasi-mystical contemplation with dance exuberance, and the difficult ethnic and temporal integration also overturn—though not reaching the same peaks—the subsequent I Am Cold (Virgin, 1982). The precocious and even superb technical and compositional maturity of these very young musicians is perhaps the secret of that pan-naturalistic and onomatopoeic impulse that exudes vital tremor, feverish dynamism, and the volcanic structure of this overflowing soundtrack to the urban jungle.

Communicativeness, dynamism, and energy burst forth powerfully from festive soul-style revelries (such as Storm The Reality Asylum) and disco-style ones (You're My Kind Of Climate). Their polyglot ritualism revels in lush lyricism. The exceptional “scenographic” qualities of their sound also emerge from quotations: the Gato Barbieri–style tango of Warm, the Afro-Asian funk in the style of McCoy Tyner in Tax Sex, and the primitivist jazz à la Don Cherry in Epi Epi Arp. More introspective moments are represented instead by three improvised instrumentals: the driving and anguished Hunger for piano, drums and viola; the convulsive Here Gathers Nameless Energy for dissonant piano, sax and synth; and the mournful trumpet ballad Misa Luba.

Reaffirming their indiscriminate creative exuberance, on Attitude (Virgin, 1983) the quintet offers another parade of rock and roll, swing, and funk. From album to album, beyond the technical excellence of the individuals and the originality of the blend, the true novelty and substance lie in the spontaneity and freshness of a sound in open contrast with the depressive tendencies of the rest of the new wave. A wild lust for life and a fervent love of nature preside over the most irrational disco music of the decade. Moreover, by some strange musical law, the rhythmic frenzy does not cancel but instead supports the heartfelt lyricism of Springer’s piano and Neneh Cherry’s singing (here more active and more of a diva than before).
The album is largely marked by the group’s most raucous and explosive jungle style, but tainted by an exotic kitsch worthy of the roaring 1930s and marred by a chronic infantilism that surfaces in increasingly trivial nursery rhymes. Triumphs of this pantagruelian style include the festive tropicalism of Do The Tightrope, the equatorial samba-funk of Keep The Shark From Your Heart, the infectious boogie-jazz of How That Stark Sets Me Aglow, the explosive Zappa-esque fanfare of Rip Open, and the frenzied charleston of Beat The Beast.
The instrumental pieces—The Birth Pangs Of Spring (a piano crescendo to the rhythm of a shakuhachi), Intimacy Just Gently Shimmer (a watercolor for chamber strings, piano and noises), and the oriental Push Your Tiny Body (for saxophones and viola to a jaw harp rhythm)—are, as usual, the most surreal moments of the album.

Having reached their peak, however, the group disbanded, true to the creative instability that had already marked the Pop Group. Gareth Sager formed the Enfants Terribles with Sean Oliver and Neneh Cherry; Mark Springer devoted himself to solo keyboard performances such as Menu (Venture, 1991); Bruce Smith joined Don Cherry’s troupe and later formed the Playgroup. With Kill Me In The Morning (Upside, 1985), the Float Up project of Neneh, Sager, Oliver and Smith debuted: less improvisation and more pop melody and dance rhythm (He Loves Me, Forever Party). Neneh Cherry would go on to a successful solo career.

Starting with A Snog On The Rocks (Demon, 1987), Sager continued the saga with Head, more “Beefheartian” in their ramshackle and sardonic boogie. Sin Bin, on Tales Of Ordinary Madness (Virgin, 1988), and Ice Cream Skin, on Intoxicator (Virgin, 1989), are representative of their eclecticism.

Mark Springer, on Capture (Exit, 1999), would transform into an austere singer-songwriter, but the highlight of the album remains his formidable piano technique, a blend of Keith Jarrett and Debussy. On Nature (Exit, 2000) Springer is aided by drummer Clive Deamer and an electronic ensemble.

He later released: Metonic - Music for Solo Piano & Piano Quartet (2002), Solo Situation (2004), E.T.A. N.Y.C. - Jazz Standards and Original Compositions (2005).

The Pax Trio (with David Wright and Sirish Kumar) released Triptych (2006) and First Light (2009).